


Children are a Trial

by CrimeAlley1048



Category: Batfamily - Fandom, Batman (Comics), Batman and Robin (Comics), Red Robin (Comics), Superboy (Comics), Superman (Comics)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-16
Updated: 2015-05-16
Packaged: 2018-03-30 19:22:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3948631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrimeAlley1048/pseuds/CrimeAlley1048
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After he falls asleep in the batcave, Tim Drake overhears an amusing conversation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Children are a Trial

You know it’s bad when even caffeine backfires. Honestly, he’d meant to stay awake— he really had. It was just that his mug, sitting on the desk beside him, was so warm, and he’d just had lunch, and everything was so quiet.  
Also he hadn’t slept in twenty-one hours— that helped too. Anyway, by the time the steam stopped rising from his coffee, Tim Drake was asleep, slumped across his keyboard.  
He woke up when voices started echoing through the cave.  
“I told you, I’m not answering that question.”  
“Why not? It’s easy enough.”  
“I’m not choosing between my kids.”  
“That’s not what I asked! I said your favorite partner.”  
“My partners _are_ my kids, Clark.”  
Tim cracked one eye open. All of a sudden, even the cave lights were too bright. Ugh.  
“You know you have a favorite.”  
“I don’t.”  
“Just tell me.”  
“No.”  
“You’ve got to admit, some of them are easier to handle than others.”  
“Are you kidding me?” asked Bruce’s voice. “None of mine are _easy_. Have you met them?”  
“Well yeah—”  
“I name my migraines after those children. There is literally not a single one that doesn’t drive me up the—”  
“Well awkward,” said Tim. He spun his chair around. “Hey, Bruce.”  
“Oh…” Bruce ran a hand through his hair, awkwardly smoothing away the lines from his cowl. “Hi, Tim. What are you doing here?”  
“Working.”  
Bruce raised an eyebrow, and Tim glanced back at the monitor’s blank screen.  
“I was taking a break.”  
“You’ve got keyboard lines,” said Clark, pointing at his own forehead. “Just so you know.”  
“Thanks.” Tim sank back in his chair, rubbing at his eyes. “And it’s Dick.”  
“Wait, what?”  
“Dick is his favorite.”  
“I’m not—” Bruce threw his hands in the air. “I don’t have a favorite child. Parents don’t pick favorites from their—”  
“Don’t you think you were _your_ parents’ favorite, Bruce?”  
“I don’t have siblings!”  
“Well hey, funny thing— that’s exactly what Damian said to me yesterday.” Tim smirked up at his father. “So I guess next migraine’s on him.”  
“I wouldn’t bet on it,” muttered Bruce.  
“Yeah, well.” Tim spun back towards his screens. “He also snuck out again. Just so you know. Dick went to go find him, but it’s been a couple of hours since I heard back, so…”  
“Seriously?”  
“Mmhm.” Tim went back to typing in his case notes. “No idea where either of them are right now. Jason, on the other hand, is in Spain. On a completely unrelated note, several important buildings in Madrid burned down today. Coincidence, I’m sure.”  
“Right,” Bruce sighed. “Okay. You guys really nailed that ‘please behave while I’m gone’ thing.”  
“We try.” Tim clicked off his screen. “Anyway, I should get going.” Maybe it was time to find a real bed. He pulled his bag onto his knees and stuffed away his files. Downed his mug of cold coffee. Grabbed his cape from the rack. He was halfway to the door when his phone started ringing— Conner Kent.  
Tim glanced back at Superman, who was propped against a wall, chatting with Bruce. It was probably fine. “Hello?”  
“Tim! Oh thank God. Okay, I need a favor.”  
“Um, Conner—”  
“No, listen, I can’t really explain because it’s a long story, and like, I didn’t think this would happen? I don’t know, I didn’t think it through. I just kind of— not important. Help?”  
“Kon—”  
“I might have, and I stress, _accidentally_ because it really was an accident—”  
“Wait, don’t—” Tim pressed his phone against his chest, hoping that might muffle the sound enough to keep it private, but it didn’t work. Across the cave, Clark’s swung around, hands on his hips. Tim grimaced and lifted the phone back to his ear.  
“—and now I gotta fix it before Superman gets back. He left this morning, and I don’t know where he went, but I think he’ll be home soon, and I—” Conner trailed off. “Are you still listening?”  
“…”  
“Superman’s in Gotham, isn’t he?”  
“Yep.”  
“Great,” Conner sighed. “Maybe he didn’t—”  
“Yeah, he’s got super-hearing,” Tim reminded him. “He heard.” Clark was storming across the cave, actually, looking outraged.  
“Young man—!”  
“Oh damn.” Conner whispered. “Nice knowing you.” And he clicked off the line faster than a speeding bullet.  
“I’m gonna kill that kid!” Clark swept through the door, pausing only long enough to address a very confused Bruce. “And you think yours are bad.”


End file.
